


secondhand

by genegin



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Shizaya Week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:07:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28005906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genegin/pseuds/genegin
Summary: Izaya brings an issue to light. Shizuo takes it more seriously than intended.[Shizaya Week Day 8: Free Day]
Relationships: Heiwajima Shizuo/Orihara Izaya
Comments: 10
Kudos: 62
Collections: Shizaya Week 2020





	secondhand

**Author's Note:**

> a little late, but better than nothing. un-betaed

The window is open when he wakes.

The other side of the bed is cold when Izaya reaches for it, rumpled sheets an indication that it wasn’t always empty space. Izaya knows he doesn’t shift much in his sleep, and he’s glad Shizuo sleeps like the dead. He’d never voice it out loud, but he wouldn’t feel comfortable sleeping together if there was the possibility Shizuo could crush him.

It’s light outside, close to noon, and he can hear cars honking on the streets, pedestrians walking and talking over the phone. Typically, he’d lean on the windowsill and start his day with people-watching, but typically he wakes up before Shizuo, so he heads down the hallway and into the kitchen instead. 

There’s nothing in the fridge. Izaya grimaces at the plate of half-finished toast on the coffee table. The least Shizuo could do is clean up after himself, but knowing him, he probably expects Izaya to eat his leftovers — the brute. 

It’d be nice to wake up to breakfast, but Shizuo’s cooking is shit, and Izaya survived on take-out for the first twenty-three years of his life. Neither of them have any culinary skills. Besides, that kind of domesticity isn’t like them, and as much as Izaya wants eggs and bacon in the morning, having nothing with Shizuo feels more right.

He never imagined himself with Shizuo, but he’s also never imagined himself with anyone else. Shizuo’s presence has always been his default, and no matter how their relationship morphed as the years passed, it’s the closest thing Izaya has ever known.

The balcony door is partially open, sunlight filtering onto the floorboards, and Izaya, despite the chill of the November air, joins Shizuo outside, wearing nothing but a thin t-shirt and underwear.

Shizuo jerks when Izaya touches his neck, warm despite the cold. It’s annoying how warm Shizuo always is; Izaya’s fingers have already started to freeze. 

“Why the fuck are you so quiet?” Shizuo spits, words stilted by the cigarette hanging from his mouth. 

Izaya sneers. “I don’t know, Shizu-chan. Why are you so abnormally hot?” It’s a pretty blatant innuendo, and he smiles when Shizuo laughs, smoke puffing in the air as he exhales. Izaya drapes himself around Shizuo’s shoulders, chest to back, pressing his cheek into his neck.

Shizuo doesn’t shake him off, but he doesn’t move to reciprocate in any way either, choosing to take another drag before blowing the smoke out to the side, away from Izaya. He grunts when Izaya drags his fingers through his bleached blond hair, hisses when Izaya tugs at his roots.

“Lay off,” he snaps with no venom.

“Your roots are showing,” Izaya replies, unbothered as he continues pulling. He knows Shizuo dyes his hair to prevent any association with his brother, but he likes the soft, dark brown that peeks out underneath the sea of yellow, like sprouts in dirt. He knows Shizuo wouldn’t appreciate his hair being compared to dirt, so Izaya doesn’t say anything.

He figured out Kasuka and Shizuo were related right away. He knows most people are pretty dull, but everyone can see they share the same sharp angles, the good looks that have girls blushing and grandmas crooning in passing. 

Shizuo’s demeanor makes him seem intimidating at first, but Izaya has seen all the softness underneath, and it doesn’t scare him like it used to. 

Izaya presses his lips behind Shizuo’s ear and feels him shudder. “Izaya,” he says, leaving it on a note like he has more to say, but he just takes another drag of his cigarette.

Izaya doesn’t like that he smokes. He used to not care, had silently encouraged it at one point, but now all he sees when Shizuo brings out the lighter is his festering lungs, shriveling and dying. And monsters can’t die — at least, not until someone kills them.

His hand rests over Shizuo’s throat, palm against his pulse point, his heartbeat thudding faster than usual. Sometimes Izaya lies awake at night, marveling at how much they’ve changed. Before, Shizuo would have snapped his wrist without a forethought, would've broken Izaya’s arm had he come within five feet. 

But he just inhales, exhales, and let’s Izaya slide his other hand down Shizuo’s bicep, smooth and almost affectionate. 

Izaya’s cold everywhere except the places where they’re pressed together. He would shuffle inside and put more layers on, but he loves this more than anything: the contrast between the weather and Shizuo’s steadying warmth.

“You should go inside,” Shizuo says when Izaya’s frozen fingers brush against his. 

“You should quit smoking,” Izaya bites back, even though there was no aggression on Shizuo’s part. 

Shizuo twists his neck to make eye contact, frowning. Izaya smiles at him, and tries to keep the patronizing edge out of his expression, but he’s never had a nice smile, and Shizuo stopped holding it against him long ago.

He’s expecting Shizuo to tell him to fuck off, not the bothered look on his face. 

“Do you want me to?” he asks, catching Izaya off-guard. 

“Well,” he says, suppressing the pleased feeling in his gut, “you know how dangerous it is. Smoking kills, you know.”

“Then no harm done.” Shizuo shrugs, but he’s still looking at Izaya questioningly, searching for approval. He stiffens at Izaya’s responding frown.

Izaya gets it — he’s never been fond of living either, and makes jokes about dying suitable for that kind of mentality, but he’s never liked hearing them from Shizuo.

“Not you,” he says, unable to keep his tone from going sharp. “It’s dangerous for _me_. You could care a little more, Shizu-chan. I had asthma as a kid.”

That last part is a lie, and Izaya regrets saying it instantly when Shizuo crushes the cigarette in his hand, probably burning it in the process. 

“Shizu-chan,” he coaxes, voice turning syrupy sweet in an attempt to soothe Shizuo’s fist open. “Shizu-chan,” he repeats more urgently when he sees the guilt on Shizuo’s face, the expression that makes something in Izaya go cold. 

He moves forward to press their mouths together, and feels an evasive hurt when Shizuo backs away. 

“I’ll quit,” Shizuo says, which oddly enough, doesn’t make Izaya feel any better. He dodges Izaya’s kiss again, repeating more firmly: “I’m going to quit.”

“Okay,” Izaya huffs, feeling annoyed at the rejection. “ _Shizuo,_ ” he says when Shizuo pulls away entirely, avoiding Izaya’s third attempt. 

“Wait,” Shizuo says as Izaya trails him to the bathroom, keeping him at arm's length. Izaya whines. “I’m going to brush my teeth, Izaya — _wait._ ”

Izaya grabs his face before he reaches the sink. “I was lying, okay? I didn’t have asthma. You don’t have to quit.” He kisses Shizuo when his lips part, in the split-second he realizes, and it tastes awful, but it’s Shizuo underneath, so Izaya licks into his mouth and sighs when Shizuo finally reciprocates.

“You’re a brat,” Shizuo mutters into it, hissing when Izaya bites his lip in retaliation. His forehead is still knit with worry when he pulls away. “But really, I’ll quit.”

“Fine,” Izaya says, more than ready to drop the subject and get back to what’s more important. He’s starting to feel hungry, but Shizuo’s crowding him against the bathroom counter, and there’s really nothing more important than this. “I’ll give you a reward if you do,” he coos.

Shizuo’s grip on his waist tightens. “What’s the reward?” he asks. The way he’s smiling tells Izaya he already knows the answer. 

“Me,” Izaya says, and pulls him in again.


End file.
